


Frustration

by runawaygypsy



Category: Michael Fassbender - Fandom
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-01
Updated: 2015-04-01
Packaged: 2018-03-20 09:08:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3644691
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/runawaygypsy/pseuds/runawaygypsy





	Frustration

Falyn laid in bed, more awake than she should have been, one hand on the small of her sleeping boyfriend's back, the other nestled between her legs, fingers nimbly swirling and pressing, the warmth inside her getting progressively hotter. The need was like an itch and, while her self ministrations began to quell the sensation, in the long run, it began to exacerbate it.

Rolling to her side, she kissed his shoulder, gently brushing her fingertips against his ribcage. He moaned for a moment and rolled on his side. To counter, she reached around, finding him flaccid, and began to stroke him softly. Another groan and he rolle, lying on his stomach, mouth smacking as he buried it in the pillow. 

With a sigh, she rolled opposite of him. It had been this way between them for some time now. He'd come home from work, eat dinner while watching television and barely speaking a word to her before retiring to bed and going to sleep with a quick goodnight peck on the cheek, if she was lucky. She knew he worked hard, but this routine was beginning to take its toll on her. 

She stood up and walked to the full length mirror, inspected herself in the moonlight. Her fingers traced the stretch marks across her abdomen, the result of significant weight loss, and she wondered what it was about her that turned him off.

Glancing at the digital clock on the nightstand, she noticed the night was still early for a Friday night. "I'm going out for a bit," she announced as she got dressed in a black skirt, a red sleeveless shirt and a pair of black flats. Her answer was a loud snort that softened into a snore. It was obvious she wouldn't be missed.

On her way out the door, she called her friend Maria and made plans to meet for drinks. "No plans with Greg?" Maria asked.

"I'll tell you about it, later," she answered. 

She met Maria at a pub not too far from the theatre district. They ordered a round and sat down at a table in the far end of the room. There weren't many people, most having preferred to visit more upscale establishments, so she felt more at ease.

"So, tell me what happened," Maria pried as they began drinking.

Falyn let out a deep breath and told the whole story, right down to the lack of affection. "The worst part is," she ended with, "Is that it makes me feel horrible."

"You're a beautiful viable woman," Maria answered, "With an arse for a boyfriend. Why, I bet you could pick up any of these men here." She pointed her manicured finger in a sweeping motion around the pub to make her point and stopped on one particular man. "I dare you to pick up that one."

He wasn't facing them, but, from what she could see, he had a shapely backside. "Oh god," Falyn groaned, "What if he's hideous?"

At that moment, he turned around and saw the tail end of Maria's point as she pulled her finger back and laid her hand on the table. They were both still looking at him when a sly smile crept across his stubbled face and he winked one blue eye at them. When they both gave him startled looks and glanced away, he sauntered over. Setting one foot up on a chair and leaning his elbow on his knee, he asked, "Am I correct in the assumption that you ladies were looking at my ass?"

Maria, wide-eyed and open-mouthed jumped from her seat and yelped, "I need to visit the loo!" Before anyone could say anything, she was gone.

"Well," the man said with a sigh, "I guess she was in quite the hurry." He wiggled his eyebrows at Falyn. Holding his hand out, he introduced himself. "M'name's Michael."

She took his hand, taking just a moment to observe the soft skin that covered the strong grip he held her with. "Falyn," she answered quietly. Under her breath, she added, "God, you're gorgeous."

He caught it, despite her efforts to lower her voice, and chuckled. "You think so, do you?" Stunned, she stared at him, sure that he could tell that just his look, the touch of his hand, which had yet to leave hers, his voice, made heat pool in key points in her body. 

She gulped. "I...I..." she stuttered. She wanted to tell him she had a boyfriend, that her friend was the single one, that she felt a little tipsy and that she thought she needed some air, but her words were lost. Bashfully, she looked away, watching from the corner of her eye as she saw him swing the chair around backwards and sit on it, straddling it, well-muscled arms leaning halfway on the back of it and halfway on the table. Her eyes tracked his lightly tapping fingers with imaginings about what they felt like. Before she could catch herself, she licked her lips and sucked them in, her gaze following the sinewy muscles of his forearms to the area just below his elbows where his shirt sleeves had been rolled and shoved upward.

"Cat got your tongue?" he asked, ducking his chin down playfully so she could see him. 

Falyn shook her head. "I need some air," she finally managed to say, standing from her seat way too quickly and nearly losing what little balance she had as she tried to take a step. She almost fell as she tottered on the low heels she wore, thanking her judgement on not wearing taller heels like she normally would have. Still, a few short steps from the table and she felt the world whirling around her, certain that she was going to tumble until she was caught.

Looking upward, she swooned again as he grinned at her. "Let me help you with that," he said as he righted her, wrapping his arm gingerly around her waist. "I'll help you get that breath of fresh air."

She was in no place to argue, so she only nodded, her only recourse since she'd announced her need to go outside. On wobbly legs, she let him guide her towards the door, shooting a quick look towards the bathroom only to see Maria in the doorway giving her a thumbs-up. Maria would be no help in getting her out of this sticky situation, she knew. He held the door open for her while steering her through it and into the cool night air. 

There was just a slight nip in the temperature outside, not a bite, just a nibble, but still warm enough that the sweater Falyn wore should have sufficed. She shivered anyway, her teeth chattering for a moment. "Let me help you stay warm," he smiled, rubbing her arms. 

"Thanks," she said as they approached a low brick barrier which had most likely been a garden wall at some point in its life, but now sat lonely, a divider between the pub and the business next door. Michael helped her perch atop it then sat down next to her, his arm still around her in case she propelled herself backwards. "I think I'm fine sitting," she sighed.

He nodded and reached inside his shirt pocket, retrieving a single cigarette and a green disposable lighter. "D'you mind if I smoke?"

Falyn had never seen the attraction in holding a smoldering cylinder of nasty substances between a person's lips and breathing in chemicals. In fact, most of the time, she went out of her way to avoid inhaling the noxious fumes, but in her haze, she was fascinated with Michael. The way he flicked the lighter with his thick thumb, then the rise of his chest as he drew in the breath to light the cigarette. She was even enthralled by the way the soft tendrils of smoke curled their way around his head as they evaporated into the darkness above him. It was damn near sexy. He saw her watching him and held the cigarette towards her. "Would you like a drag?"

"I don't like smoking," she replied, the response a pat one that she found she almost always had occasion to use when she went out. She took the cigarette anyway, sucking in just slightly as she held it to her lips, feeling the smoke burn her mouth and scorch her throat. It was too much. She began to cough, the smoke inelegantly burning as it came out of her nose and mouth. 

Michael took the cigarette and handed her his half-drained pint. "Have a swig, it'll help," he instructed. She hadn't seen him bring it with him, but, then again, she wasn't exactly in the best place to observe. As she took a swig from the bottle, the cool liquid soothed her parched throat. 

Taking in a deep breath, she handed it back to him. "Thanks, again," she said as she let out a breath of relief. "I think I'll stick to inhaling your smoke."

He laughed as he finished the last few drags of the cigarette. "All done with that, then," he said, grounding the remains of the smoking butt into the cement with his heel. "So much for fresh air, right?"

Falyn wasn't sure what came over her. Michael's shark-like smile as he looked at her, waiting for her own laughter to commence undid her last line of defense. Her gaze sobered him completely and his smile dropped, but the hunger that welled in his eyes mirrored her own. There was no awkward silence, no uncomfortable pauses, they communicated without words, the gaze they were locked in saying so much more than they could have themselves. He grasped her hands, his large ones engulfing her small ones, warming them. When she didn't protest, he pulled her closer to him, leaning into her as well and then his lips were upon her, working mercilessly, hungrily suckling at her, and, when she responded in kind, prying her open with his tongue. 

She reciprocated by pulling her hands from his and wrapping her arms around his neck, curving her body into his, chest to chest, as tightly as she could. The alarm bells in her head went off. They told her it wasn't right, that she had someone at home, that this was cheating, that it would certainly ruin her relationship, but she didn't care. All her natural impulses pulled her towards Michael, metal to a magnet. 

As he released her, he whispered gruffly, "Would you like to come back to my place?"

"Yes," she smiled. Her immediate response even surprised herself. She had never been one for going home with strange men, but, at this moment, she didn't care. Her libido was relishing the opportunity to reclaim itself from unintentional dormancy. 

Michael helped her stand up and wrapped her in his arms, kissing her again. She could smell him now, the scents of spice and smoke as they permeated his clothing. It was a heady mix that served only to intoxicate her more. They walked down the street like that, only stopping occasionally to cross or when there was someone or something they needed to navigate around, until they reached his flat, some six blocks away. He could only tear himself away from her long enough to open the door. "Welcome to my humble abode," he said as she stepped inside.

His flat was immediately him. Everything was utilitarian in design, but rugged, strong, useful. She could tell he didn't spend an inordinate amount of time there. "What do you do for a living?" she found herself asking, not even sure she wanted to know the answer.

"I'm an actor," he replied as he shut the door. "You may have seen some of my movies..."

Falyn shook her head. "I don't get to watch films, much," she said as she took a seat on the black leather sofa.

"That's a shame," Michael replied, joining her. He wasted no time in continuing what they had begun in front of the pub. In an instant, his arms were around her, his mouth plying hers. His hands slid down to the small of her back, then to her ass, squeezing enough to make her squeal into his mouth. "Come, sit on my lap," he whispered, his voice husky. Falyn did as he asked, lifted herself up and sat precariously with her thighs across his legs. "That's better," he purred as his lips brushed across the vein of her neck.

Goosebumps peppered her skin and a delicious shiver crawled down her spine as his kisses moved along her flesh, from her neck to her collarbone, punctuated with gentle nibbles. One of his hands remained on her backside, steadying her, but the other moved along her leg at a snails pace, his fingers tenderly creeping along from her knee to her inner thigh. She barely noticed how it had moved until his fingertips fluttered at the lace of her panties. With a swift motion, he scooted the offending fabric to the side, baring her mound as much as he could before plying her open, beckoning with tender touches that only served to incite her more. Falyn sucked in a sharp breath as he delved in, one single finger into her slit. "You're so wet, already," he groaned against her. His finger brushed against the bundle of nerves there, causing it to quiver and making her let out a peremptory moan. He swirled it around, toying with her for his own amusement. "Oh, did you like that?" he asked mischievously as she mewled.

For Falyn, each stroke, each movement of that lone digit only served to stoke her fire. The heat that grew in her was as intense as any inferno, perhaps more so since she felt like, at any minute, she would be completely incapacitated and rendered molten by his ministrations. She bit her lip as the fire grew inside her, felt her hip flex against his hand as he moved from teasing only her tender nub to sliding two long fingers inside her, crooking them and thrumming against her most sensitive spot. Her insides began to tighten, the tension curling and curling, begging for release until he pulled himself from her. "Wait," she panted. "Keep going."

Michael chuckled darkly, his voice full of lust. "Your release belongs to me," he growled. He lifted her from his lap and stood in one fluid movement. Stunned, she began to sit down, yelping in surprise as he flipped her over, her face resting against the warm, sticky leather, her ass in the air. She could hear him unzip his trousers and heard the swish of fabric right before she felt him at her entrance, pushing himself inside her, filling her completely.

She moaned as she adjusted to him, her only disappointment being that she'd not had a chance to witness what certainly felt like a glorious erection before he impaled her upon it. There was a slick sucking sound as he pulled himself from her and then slammed into her again. "You feel so good," he cooed into her ear as he leaned down.

With that, Falyn began to operate on nothing than animal instinct. Taking a cue from Michael, she growled, "Fuck me like you mean it." Reaching behind her, she found his thigh. Tracing it further, she grasped his hip, setting her own rhythm. He seemed to enjoy her initiative, groaning as he thrust into her, his hips picking up speed. "Touch me more," she moaned.

Michael leaned in closer and reached around, one hand finding her clit, fingers pressing against it, teasing it while she writhed. His other hand traced along her spine and came to rest at her neck, fingers tangled in her hair. Pulling her head backwards by her hair, he heard her keen. "Oh, do you enjoy that, then?" he asked, though her actions already told him the answer. "Are you one for a good smack on the ass, then, too?"

Falyn let out a cry. "Yessss!!! she hissed.

He sat more upright and pulled his hand from her, bringing a hard, wet thwack across one cheek of her ass as he rutted into her. It served only to make her moan more. Another smack on the other and she was pumping hard against him, her grunts coming breathlessly. "Shall I continue?" he asked, amused at the way his hand left red prints across the pale skin. His answer was her whimper, the precursor to the orgasmic cry he expected at any moment. He brought his hand down hard again, this time positioning it as closely as he could across her entire rear. 

The last smack was the last straw, sending Falyn's release through her in a crash of ecstasy. Her voice carried through his flat, broken only by the breathlessness that perforated each call of his name. 

Michael growled, his cock throttled by her as she came. He thrust through her orgasm feeling his own impending, sure that she would incite it simply by her own release. He was correct in his assumption, feeling with each paroxysm that rocked her body, that he was one step closer. It was near maddening, the impulse to push through the boundaries of her and, as he felt himself harden even more inside her wet heat, it became unbearable. He grasped her hips and pulled her onto him hard, each thrust becoming more insistent, feeling her begin to come again with this new, rougher action between them, until he wanted to push through her, impale her, his cock reaching critical mass as he grunted. "Oh fuck," he groaned as he felt his own release expend inside her, coating her, claiming her while she spasmed around him. 

When at last the sensation was done and he began to soften, he withdrew from her, he closed his eyes and felt her collapse onto the sofa. He wedged himself behind her and wrapped himself around her, determined not to let her go. "You are the sexiest damn woman I've ever had the pleasure of," he whispered.

Falyn smiled, her own eyes heavy with sudden exhaustion. "Michael?" she said quietly.

"Yes?" he answered.

"I need to go." She squirmed from him, aware of the slick between her legs. "But I'll be back."

"Good," he replied. "Because I'm not done with you yet."


End file.
